Doubt
by Damned Lolita
Summary: Doubt is all consuming, pressuring. It brings fear and loathing in your heart. And eventually, it brings the gun to your head, and the bullets to your brain.


(This is a companion piece to My God, rewritten. From peppy champion to suicidal nutcase. I don''t own pokemon, and with the shit I write, that might just be a good thing.)

I knew something was wrong. It was in that boy's eyes, so filled with hatred. Me?

My name is Germaine, Germaine Theda. I'm an average pokemon trainer, and I suppose I'd like to be the best. But if I'm not, it's okay. As long as I can stay with my pokemon, I'm happy.

My Absol, Bleak, we both tried to help that boy's Manectric. But he wouldn't let us.

He even kicked Bleak!

I was in the pokemon center, when I heard about the six shot pokemon. Apparently, the Mightyena had bitten his hand off, as well, and he bled to death.

I started out to Ever Grande City that morning.

Bleak was the only one out of her pokeball.

She had been listening to the story, and she looked at me. "Germaine?" She asked me. "Would you ever do that to me?" I was shocked. "Bleak, no! You guys are my best friends! Why would you think that?" She sighed. "I'm just paranoid. Really. Don't worry, I'm sorry." I nodded. "It's okay."

We walked in silence through Victory Road. I was thinking. '_If my pokemon lost all the time... would I do the same?' _I looked at them. Bleak, my Absol. Adeliah, my Delcatty.

Xareth, my Aggron. Laine, my Skarmory. Lugosi, my Crobat. Lysandre, my Flygon. I suppressed a grin. No, I don't think so. But that nagging little voice was still at the back of my head.

We beat a few trainers, and I got tired, so I rode on Xareth's back. We came out, finally, and registered. Our battle was that night. I recalled everyone, and fell asleep. When I woke up, it was time. I fought Sid first; he was easy.

Xareth, Lugosi, and Lysander took his pokemon out with Seismic Toss, Aerial Ace, and Focus Punch.

Phoebe was a bit harder.

But Bleak and I, working as a team, beat her in the end. Glacia was confusing! Most of her pokemon had a water type as well, so Xareth's Flamethrower didn't work.

I beat her with Adeliah, in the end.

Drake was the hardest. Lysander, Adeliah, and Laine did most of the work. It was spectacular, and I was more proud of them than I had ever been. But still that voice nagged.

And then I fought Steven.

His pokemon were powerful, not doubt; But Xareth's Flamethrower, Bleak's Perish Song, Adeliah's Ice Beam, Laine's Steel Wing, Lysander's Dragonbreath, and Lugosi's Toxic won us the victory.

As we walked to the hall of fame, I asked Steven, "...Steven, there was this boy I met... the one on the news. The one that shot his pokemon. I think he abused them. And... Do you think I would do that? Or any other trainer, frustrated with losing?"

I looked away.

Then I felt Steven's hand on my shoulder. He looked at me. "Germaine. No. I saw how you fought. Every one of your pokemon fought because of you. Because they love you, and they know the feeling is mutual. Some trainers will not forge a bond with their pokemon; simple as that. We are all only human; we have our shortcomings, sure. But I don't believe anyone who could make it to the Elite Four would hit their pokemon."

'_Because they have no reason to,' _a voice sang, but I brushed it off.

I knew it was wrong.

After we were registered in the Hall Of fame, I went home to Slateport, to catch a ship to a place called Johto. As we sat on the ship, my pokemon and I, I looked at each of them. I knew that boy had been wrong.

It wasn't his pokemon's fault they lost.

It was his.

My pokemon love me, I love them, and that's that.

No matter what.

But I looked up. "Manectric..." I whispered.

"I'm sorry. He was wrong. Wherever you are, I hope you're happy."

And I truly believed it for a second.

Just like everything else.

Like that love lasts forever, that doubt is not all-consuming, that I would not die.

I was a Pokemon Master. I had beaten Johto, Kanto, Sinnoh, Hoenn, and I had done it spectacularly. But that voice just wouldn't leave me be. It was always there, nagging and nagging and yelling, screaming I was just as bad as Lyell, just as bad, maybe even worse. And as time goes on, I found myself losing my mind.

The voice told me to hit them. That, I refused to do. I was better. Because I'd never had to hit them, never needed to, I was better. But the voice didn't believe that. '_Show them who you really are. And I'll give you immortality.' _

But I never believed it. And I never figured out who the voice was. I never had time to. It was in my battle in the Orange Islands, that it came back. '_If they don't win, will you hit them?' _It mocked. I was fighting against a boy who looked like an older Lyell, who must've ran his pokemon ragged. They were strong for it, though.

He made short work of us. And even though it didn't really matter, I was still a pokemon Master, this is what killed me. The voice jeered, "_See! Told you! Hit! HIT TO WIN!' _I ran away from the stadium, hearing Bleak and the others call after me. "NO!" I screamed. Racing to my small apartment, I searched through the drawers, and found a gun. I raised it to my head, and yelled, "_I'll make you shut up!" _

However, I forgot that if I shot the voice in my head, I would suffer from some... rather _adverse_ side affects.

Manectric, I'm coming. I doubt you're happy.


End file.
